Chapter 3

  Dogs’ Valley

  Half an hour along the mountain path from the village, the trees gave way to a small, sunlit valley.

  Wildflowers bloomed on the slopes, their colors shifting with the passing seasons, while a narrow stream ran like a thread of silver.

  Crossing the wooden bridge at the valley’s entrance, one was greeted by the bark of dogs and the patter of running paws.

  This is the place known as Dogs’ Valley.

  Here, people and dogs lived side by side. The dogs worked in the fields, along the mountain trails, and on the hunt. For the children, they were precious friends and daily playmates.

  It was said the valley had once been home only to dogs. In time, a few people from the mountain village—those who had formed a deep bond with the dogs—were welcomed here, becoming part of the dogs’ family. And so, even now, the place is still called by the name it was given back then: Dogs’ Valley.

  Maya loved this valley. The moment he crossed the bridge, the dogs would rush toward him, licking his hands and cheeks. The warmth of their bodies and the rhythm of their breath stirred something deep inside him.

  That day, a puppy named Koro trotted up and clung to his legs.

  “Koro, you’ve gotten rounder again,” Maya laughed.

  He scooped the pup up, and Koro wagged his short tail furiously, trying to lick his face.

  From the fields, a woman returning from work chuckled at the sight. “Maya, surrounded by dogs again? They clearly see you as one of their own.”

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  Travel between the valley and the mountain village was frequent. People from the valley visited the village between farming and hunting, bringing help and supplies. In return, villagers came here to borrow dogs or trade for tools and food. During the small seasonal festivals, the dogs wore flowers or bright cloth around their necks and ran through the streets with the children.

  “So, what brings you here today?” the woman asked.

  “Grandma sent me to tell the valley chief there’s a gathering in the village tomorrow evening,” Maya replied.

  She straightened slightly and said, “Oh, Amna herself? I see. The chief should be at the Shrine of the Mountain Dog today—why don’t you go find him there?” She gave him directions.

  Maya gently set Koro down and made his way past the pack, deeper into the valley.

  Following the stream, he soon came upon a moss-covered stone stairway leading into a dense grove. At the top stood a weathered shrine, quiet beneath the shade.

  Flanking it were two stone statues of mountain dogs, their sharp eyes fixed on the valley’s entrance.

  Before the shrine stood an old man.

  His back was straight, his face lined with deep wrinkles, and though his expression was stern, his eyes were clear.

  He is the valley chief.

  When Maya approached, the man turned and gave a brief nod.

  “You come on Amna’s behalf?”

  His low, steady voice carried through the stillness of the grove.

  Maya stepped forward and straightened his back.

  “Yes. She asked me to tell you there will be a gathering in the village tomorrow evening.”

  The chief nodded slowly, descended the steps, and stood before him.

  “Maya, is everyone in the village well?”

  “Yeah—oh, I mean, yes! Everyone’s doing well.”

  Realizing he’d slipped into his usual casual tone, Maya quickly corrected himself, and the chief’s eyes softened with a faint smile.

  He bowed to the shrine and began walking toward the valley.

  Maya followed, and together they took the path through the grove. Along the way, the chief asked about life in the mountain village, and Maya spoke of his days with Amna.

  When the rooftops of the valley began to appear beyond the trees, the chief slowed his steps and said,

  “Maya, what kind of stories has Amna passed down to you as you’ve grown?”

  The sudden question made Maya hesitate, but he answered, “Stories about kings, the Four Heroes… and also about the people of the royal capital.”

  At this, the chief gave a small, knowing smile.

  “Then you will surely come to know many more roads ahead.”

  Leaving those mysterious words behind, the chief continued toward the settlement.

  Maya bowed deeply and watched his back until it disappeared into the valley. Watching the chief’s figure fade from sight, Maya turned the words over in his mind again and again.

  The sun was sinking, casting long shadows across the forest path. From far away, the faint barking of dogs drifted through the quiet air.

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  AI disclosure: I am a non-native English writer and have used AI for partial translation and light editing. No AI-generated prose.